


Drift Into The Great Unknown

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Alternate story line in which Finn's adoptive parents are still alive and by her side as she wakes up and recovers from the coma and attack by The Gig Harbor Killer in 2015. Russell and the rest of the CSI team will also be involved. Multiple chapters to come.





	1. Chapter 1

May 15th 2015 

“Would you please stop reading that chart?” a voice hisses to him harshly. 

“I just want to make sure they didn’t miss anything,” he replies, flipping the page on the metal clipboard that normally rests in the slot in front of the bed. 

Patrick cannot bring himself to stop reading, in fact, it’s the only thing that has kept him sane over the last three months, well, relatively sane, as sane as you could get when your only child is lying here, trapped in a coma. The bruises on her face and body have healed, which the nurses say is a good thing, but she is unresponsive, no matter how they speak to her, no matter what they put on TV or what music they play, she’s silent, lost, and they are helpless. 

“It’s the same as it was yesterday,” Karen replies, exasperated to her husband “and the day before that, and the week before that.”

She has grown weary, sitting here, watching over Julie, waiting for something to happen, for her to come bursting back to life, but the agony of waiting and wondering has made her bitter, frustrated, devastated. She has been in control her whole life, but this is something she cannot fix, and it is killing her. 

“Dr. King saw her arm twitch and so did I,” Patrick said, “she knows, she can come back.”

The doctor in him told him otherwise, but the father in him was not ready to let her go. She was still so young, she had so much life left to live. And yet she was forced to waste away here, violently attacked by The Gig Harbor Killer, someone they only heard her mention a few times when she used to work in Seattle and that the copycat had revealed himself here in Las Vegas. How foolish of them to think that she would be safe here three years ago when she told them Russell re-hired her. 

“Dr. King also said it could be a reflex,” Karen explained, not wanting to get her hopes up nor his hopes up even though her heart was slowly dying as a result of this long, traumatic experience. Her baby was trapped, and she could not rescue her. It was a mother’s absolute torture. Worse still, was the secret she carried with her and with Patrick that they held onto for almost fifty years; Julie was not their biological daughter, in fact she was their niece, adopted by them at six months old, never knowing the wiser. She led a happy life, up until this point, and now, she may never know the truth. 

The very first night they arrived here in Vegas after Russell had called them to deliver the horrifying news, they saw her face, all bloody and bruised and they sobbed, for hours, vowing in their moment of pain to tell her the truth if she ever came back to them. For now, they could only wait. 

“She’s in there,” Patrick declared as a final word on the matter, leaning forward in his seat to watch Julie closely for movements “she’ll come back, when she figures it out.” 

He stopped speaking because it was too much to bear the thought of losing her. It was just yesterday she was five and waiting for him when he arrived home from work at the hospital. He could still see her tiny figure careening towards him, he could still hear her delighted squeal of joy when he scooped her up, carrying her around the kitchen, asking her about her day which she chatted about endlessly, all while Karen listened, smiling, loving their interactions, how they all sat down to dinner together, how Julie made up stories and games while they ate, babbling away, content, safe, loved. He wanted that Julie back, he wanted a sign that she was still herself, because there was no telling what kind of mental state she would be in if she did wake up. What would she remember? Would she be able to work and do all the things she loved like before? He felt guilty for that tiny part of his brain that expressed a desire for her pain and suffering to end if that was going to be her future. 

As much as Karen wanted to believe Patrick and support his blind faith in miracles, this coma was stretching into it’s third month, the more time that passed, the less likely a full recovery was possible. They had uprooted themselves from Philly to Vegas, sharing the guest room at D.B Russell’s house but spending the majority of the day cooped up here beside Julie, watching her, reading to her, speaking to her like she was still here and not some shadow like presence unable to communicate. She took the literal, that was her entire life thus far, and she hated herself for feeling such hopelessness inside her heart. She felt inadequate as a mother, the pain at the realization that she really was not technically a mother intensified. Karen felt a surge of pain in her chest every time she felt a loss of faith or hope for Julie’s recovery. Was it because she didn’t give birth to her that there was a slight disconnect in their bond? Yet she had no one to discuss this pain with except Patrick who denied its existence as a mere form of grief over this loss, impending or receding they would not know. Being kept in limbo was indeed the ultimate torture. Schrödinger’s cat maximized. 

Silence was how they spent the majority of these visits now. Patrick would read Julie’s medical chart over and over like he did his books. Karen would sit and read silently and then to Julie when she felt ready. An outsider would deem this behavior insanity, repeating the same thing the same way and expecting a different result. No sooner had Patrick settled back in his chair, defeated once again, did an explosion of rapid beeping erupt, sending them both upright in alarm. The machines monitoring Julie’s pulse, heart and breathing were the source of the noise and it was continuing, loud, furious. 

“What’s happening?” Karen asked in a panicked tone. 

“Her stats are dropping,” Patrick realized horrified “somethings making her heart rate drop.”

He pushed the call button to page Dr. King or anyone who could make sense of this as he struggled to decipher what this could mean. Chaos erupted as nurses and Dr. King descended upon Julie, checking vitals, searching for the source of the trauma. Patrick and Karen got pushed back as the team worked on Julie until, to their horror, the beeping stopped and the horrifying, unmistakable flat line appeared on the screen. The room held their breath, it couldn’t be true. After three months, it ended this way. Patrick pushed his way through the swarm of nurses to see for himself as Karen followed, clinging to his arm, choking back tears. 

“No pulse,” one of the nurses had the audacity to say “Dr. King?” 

Patrick and Karen stared at the woman who had treated Julie since she arrived here that agonizing February night. She held an expression of sadness as she felt Julie’s wrist for a pulse. 

“Do something,” Karen begged them “fix her!” 

But Patrick knew there was nothing more to be done. He hung his head, turning to Karen and whispering “It’s too late honey” hating how his voice sounded in this moment. Karen’s soul crushing wail of anguish echoed through the entire room as the nurses started to back away to give them privacy. Patrick felt Karen slide against him, almost like she was going to fall but she remained standing, sobbing as she buried her face into his chest. The continuous beeping of the machine as it stayed flat lined was an assault on the senses and made the reality of their pain much worse. Dr. King reached over to turn it off but as her hand reached the switch, it started back up in a steady rhythm, up and down, a normal pulse? Patrick noticed the change a second later and he lifted his head to stare at the machine. Movement on the bed made them all jump, startled, having only watched Julie lie still for so long. But now, her hand curled up, her leg shifted, she whimpered as she turned her head, eyes opening, squinting as they adjusted to the light, blinking as she searched around her unfamiliar surroundings. Her eyes landed on her parents standing over her, crying for some reason she did not understand. 

“Mom?” she called out hoarsely making Karen jump and Patrick let out the breath he had been holding. 

“Baby,” Karen sobbed, holding her arms out, descending upon Julie, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close in a sideways hug, sobbing as she held her. 

“Daddy?” Julie called to, in that soft tone whenever she was hurt or scared as a child, looking past her mother at him as he stood, looking scared but also happy at the same time. What was happening? 

“Hey kiddo,” was all he could say as he was overcome with emotions, joy, relief, absolute, glorious relief that she was back. 

The room let out the breath they had all been holding, grateful for the miracle that had just happened in front of them all. It was a short-lived moment of peace however because a second later, Julie grew restless. 

“Where’s Russell?” she demanded now “I need to tell him, Gig Harbor, he was hitting me, my condo, evidence.”

“Relax,” Patrick soothed her as she squirmed, anxious, restless on the bed, but he did not give her the answers she wanted in the moment. 

“Is that the last thing you remember?” Dr. King suddenly bombarded Julie with this question.

“Yes?” Julie said confused by the question and all the nurses and doctor watching her “I was doing case work and he attacked me, did Russell get him? Is that why I’m here? What did he do to me?” 

She looked from the nurses to the doctor to her mother and father, none of whom answered her.  
“What happened?” she demanded now “tell me, is it bad? It was only just last night.”

That realization was like a punch to their stomachs, she was unaware of how much time had actually passed. 

“No honey,” Patrick spoke first, bracing himself on the side of the bed, feeling dizzy at all the chaos and confusion she was enduring right now. 

“Well then what day is it?” she asked glancing around from her mother who was crying as she leaned against her, cradling her like she was a child again, to her father who was staring down at the bed, struggling to say the truth, not for the first time in his life. 

“Look, maybe we should run some tests first and see how you’re feeling before we-“Dr. King started to say but Julie cried “No! Tell me now!” 

“Patrick just tell her!” Karen begged, squeezing Julies shoulders in what she hoped was a comforting affection. 

“Daddy?” Julie called softly to him now, piercing him with a sad look, the same way she used to call for him when she had a nightmare or was sick, knowing he would help her or be honest with her. Looking into her eyes, he could see the confusion in the way she stared at him, fighting back tears, desperate for answers and a handle on her situation. The way she clung to Karen, terrified of everyone around her except them, the first two familiar and safe people she knew. Both his heart and hers was breaking into a million pieces the longer he kept her waiting for an answer. 

“May fifteenth slugger,” he finally admitted, trembling as he spoke, “it’s May fifteenth, two thousand fifteen.”


	2. Chapter 2

If the room was not already spinning and if her head was not already foggy and disoriented, hearing her father tell her she had been in this hospital, presumably in some sort of coma for three months would have likely made her pass out. She came close to it though, her heart started beating faster, her breathing grew rapid and intense, the heart monitors began beeping frantically again, showing the panic she was feeling. 

“No,” she whimpered in disbelief, beginning to squirm in the bed again “it can’t be.”

“It is sweetheart,” Patrick said, leaning over the bed, reaching out to brush her hair soothingly “but listen, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to help you.”

“I have to go home,” she cried now “I want to go home!” 

She twisted around, tangling herself up in the covers, throwing the heart monitors into further frenzy in her panic state. 

“Not just yet baby,” Karen said, trying to get Julie back into her arms to soothe her but she was frantic and agitated.

Dr. King stepped forward now and said, “We really need to run some tests, make sure she’s stable, check for any leftover swelling in her brain.”

“MRI, CT, and cognitive tests?” Patrick rattled off the routine he used on many patients when they suffered head injuries in his thirty years of work. 

“Yes,” Dr. King said sadly, looking down at Julie and feeling bad for putting her through all of that. 

“No!” Julie cried to both of them now, realizing she would have to be taken away and tested and poked and prodded “don’t make me do that, please?”

She turned back to Patrick and Karen, begging them with her painful gaze. 

“You have to slugger,” Patrick said, trying to be encouraging but Julie’s heartbreaking sobs were growing louder and more soul crushing. 

“Please don’t,” she begged shaking her head “please take me home, I want to go home.”

But deep down she knew they were not going to let her leave, not after being comatose for three months. Her crying and begging and pleading were useless, but it was all she felt capable of doing, her emotions locked up for so long, it was all spilling out. She leaned sideways, burying her face in Karen’s side, the only safe place she could run to right now. Karen would give anything in the world to trade places with her daughter, to bear the brunt of her pain, to endure what she was enduring, but all she could do was hold her as cried, sobs making her body shake, her burning desire to be back home overwhelming her fragile soul. Patrick reached out to squeeze Julie’s arm in a meek, hesitant show of support. Truth be told, he didn’t know what to do to help her. Soothing her when she was sick or throwing a tantrum was easy. Spoiling her with candy and gifts when she had a bad day was easy. Fixing her broken spirit, a monumental task. 

Dr. King was calm and comforting as she walked them all through the tests that needed to be done today and over the next several days to determine Julie’s physical, mental and emotional stability. Julie could only cry as she was overwhelmed with these prospects. When the nurses started to push her bed out of her room and into the hallway to transport her to the different parts of the hospital for the tests, she felt sick, her eyes darting around the space, the noises and hustle and bustle of the hospital was overwhelming to her sensitive ears which had not heard properly in months. Karen and Patrick walked alongside the bed, Karen holding Julie’s hand, rubbing her arm with the other while shooting worried glances at Patrick. 

When they reached a set of double doors that would lead to the MRI rooms, Patrick and Karen started to pull away and Julie started to panic again, reaching back desperately for them. 

“We’ll be right outside when you get back okay?” Patrick tried to reassure her. 

“Don’t go,” she begged them, twisting around, trying to crawl out of the bed to get to them. But the nurses ushered her into the next hallway before she could escape, leaving Patrick and Karen behind, standing together, waiting until Julie was out of sight before Karen broke down at last and sobbed out all the fear and agony she had been holding in for Julie’s sake. 

Karen and Patrick kept their promise, waiting outside the hallway in the first set of chairs closest to the door they could find, then again, outside the next hallway when the nurse moved Julie to another test, then back outside her room while Julie sat inside with Dr. King performing the last part of the test, cognitive function and recall, using Julie’s personnel file from work and spoken accounts of her life as told to her by her parents. Karen leaned on Patrick, resting her head on his shoulder while they waited for permission to re-enter the room, Dr. King needing to be alone with Julie so she would answer truthfully and not rely on answers from them. 

“I’m sorry,” Karen whispered hoarsely from crying. 

“For what dear?” he asked quietly. 

“Not having faith in her,” Karen whispered, “or you, I’m a terrible mother for thinking she wouldn’t make it.”

“You are no such thing,” Patrick assured her “it looked bad, you saw her face, all those bruises, the swelling in her brain, the odds were slim, but she beat it, she’s going to be fine, she remembered us right away, that’s a good thing.”

“She’s going to hate us,” Karen said worriedly “we forced her to stay, she just wants to go home.”

“You and I both know she has a lot to do before she can leave,” Patrick reminded her “physical therapy, they will probably want her to sit down with a therapist to process what happened to her, her friends are going to want to see her too, we should call Russell, he needs to know.”

Karen nodded but couldn’t physically find the strength to reach for her cell phone to make that call. Julie’s cries were still echoing in her ears, she just wanted to hold her again. Luckily, the door to Julie’s room opened and Dr. King stepped out. Both Karen and Patrick stood up together, anxious. 

“She’s in good shape,” Dr. King said, smiling, relieved for this family “she recalled everything I asked her to, she remembers her childhood, her work, everything, she’s a bit foggy on the details from February but that’s to be expected.”

“And the scans?” Patrick asked. 

“CT was normal, MRI showed no swelling, no bleeding,” Dr. King went on “we stopped it all that first night, she’s got some scarring on her head but those should start to fade over time, as of right now, I don’t see any issues, she’s tired, but we’re going to work out a physical therapy plan and start that tomorrow when she’s feeling better.”

“Thank you so much,” Karen sighed “you saved her.”

“She’s tough,” Dr. King praised Julie “when she came here back in February, it was the worst trauma I’d seen in all my years as an ER doc, but she beat the odds, she’s your miracle.”

“Thank you,” Patrick said shaking her hand.

“I’ll check in on her in a couple hours but she’s all yours.” Dr. King said, smiling as she let them pass through the door at last. 

They were relieved to see Julie slouched on her pillows but awake and looking relatively normal. When she saw them, she stretched her arms out towards Karen, silently. Karen rushed to be with her, settling back in bed with her and letting her lean on her like she had done before they whisked her away for the tests. Patrick sat on the edge of the bed facing them.

“Good news,” he said, “you passed, you’re gonna be okay.”

“How do you feel?” Karen asked when Julie didn’t answer right away. 

“Tired,” she admitted, sinking further down into the pillows and against Karen’s side. 

“You need to rest,” Patrick realized now “you’ve been through a lot today.” 

“I can’t,” Julie said meekly. 

“Why not sweetie?” Karen asked, letting her hand caress her cheek delicately. 

The affection, the first real thing she felt and was aware of after three months of darkness made tears build up in her eyes again. She had so many questions but was just too tired to ask. She wanted to close her eyes but didn’t know what would be waiting for her when she did fall asleep. 

“I’m scared,” she finally admitted, her voice cracking with emotions, feeling shameful, embarrassed for breaking down when she had been so tough and so strong in every other aspect of her life. She was a grown woman, crying like a child in front of her parents. Her mixed feelings overwhelming her. Her breathing rapid and uncontrollable. 

“Oh honey,” Karen soothed, smoothing Julie’s hair back repetitively “you are safe here, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But, if I go to sleep, what if, I don’t wake up?” Julie turned the question to her father now, the man saw every terrifying medical scenario possible, he would know. 

“You will wake up,” Patrick assured her, brushing her hair along with Karen “and we’ll be right here when you do okay? Just like today and every day until you’re ready to go home.” 

But Julie continued to breath heavy, panic rising in her chest again. But, after everything she had endured today and three months ago, was catching up to her. She was exhausted, she let her eyes close and they burned, the darkness spinning just like the room, she opened them again after only a minute or so and everything was still the same. 

“See?” Patrick encouraged her softly “right here, we promise, we won’t leave you.”

He managed a small smile, wanting to give her a sense of normalcy and security she was robbed of. All the while, Karen kept stroking her hair, a motion guaranteed to make her relax and fall asleep like it did when she was little all the way up until she moved to Seattle but when she needed comfort and assurance, Karen was there, ready to shower her with love. Maybe this type of pseudo motherhood wasn’t fake after all. 

Slowly, Julie began to settle. She stayed cuddled up to Karen, her sobs becoming intermittent. They kept a close eye on her, noticing how she would jump or twitch when she sensed something around her. Each twitch or movement frustrated her as she was so close to sleep but jerked awake by her own fear, and she whimpered in discomfort. Her struggle to relax was heartbreaking but not surprising. 

“We know,” Karen whispered, patting her back while Patrick squeezed her knee. 

Their voices began to fade, her body and brain were numb, yet she could feel everything as opposed to darkness, the only thing she remembered up until today. There was so much she wanted, yet it all seemed so far away. It felt like she had been running nonstop for hours and with her mind and body’s cooperation at last, she could sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Daylight beat its way into the hospital room. Neither Patrick, Karen nor Julie had moved the entire night. Occasionally they could hear her sigh softly in her sleep and they wondered what she was seeing in her dreams, if anything at all. Karen could not help but stare at her as she slept, untangling strands of her hair, tracing her fingers on her face, recalling where the bruises were and how completely healed she was now compared to months ago, counting the tiny freckles on her cheeks, making sure she still had each and every one. 

“You’re going to wake her up,” Patrick whispered but admired Karen’s affectionate routine. 

Karen ignored him, pressing one finger to her lips to tell him to hush before returning to her affectionate watch over Julie. When she finally did start to wake up, she shifted, turning over in the bed, almost sliding out of it. She sighed again but louder, squirming under the covers, restless. When she opened her eyes and the bright sunlight hit her, she winced, turning again and burying her face into Karen’s side and her pillow. 

“Easy,” Patrick soothed her when he saw her restless movements, leaning forward in the chair he occupied to catch her if she fell out of the bed. After seeing nothing but darkness for so long, waking up was going to be more of a struggle than usual for her. He had seen it many times with patients under heavy anesthesia and trying to wake up felt like there were a thousand bricks sitting on their heads. At the same time, he couldn’t help but smile at a memory of her, nine years old, staying up late to watch a baseball game on TV. She wanted to learn from the pros and get better for her little league team, but she fell asleep before the game was even over and he carried her to bed. She was so tiny and light in his arms and so at peace in her slumber. When he tucked her in, she snuggled into her pillow the same way she was right now, and his heart felt relief that she was slowly showing signs of her normal self again. 

“What time is it?” Julie asked now, muffled, groggy, 

“After eight,” Patrick confirmed to her. 

“Are you hungry?” Karen asked now “we can call the nurse and get you some breakfast.”

Julie shook her head, not really sure if she felt hunger or not. Her head was foggy and her thoughts too overwhelming to process the right way. She felt hungover but she couldn’t explain it the right way either. All she wanted to do was lay here and sleep, but she desperately wanted to be at home in her own bed. That premise seemed unlikely, considering what she went through and she still had Dr. King’s therapy plan to complete. As she struggled to wake up and shake the haze from her head, her mother continued to brush her hair, slow and gentle, untangling strands that had gotten messy during her slumber. The motion started to put her to sleep again but she was startled awake by the sharp voice of Dr. King entering the room. 

“Morning folks how are we today”?” she asked cheerfully.

“Much better now,” Karen replied happily, squeezing Julie’s shoulder again. 

“Julie, honey how do you feel?” Dr. King turned her attention to her delicate patient. 

“Okay I guess,” she replied, “I just want to go home.”

“I know it babe,” Dr. King offered her sympathies but also carried with her a medical chart and a large stack of paperwork “but we need to get you back in tip top shape before we let that happen, the neurologist and the surgeon who operated on you back in February to relieve that pressure in your head and I sat down and came up with a four week plan to-

“Four weeks?” Julie interrupted, shocked by the duration “that’s a whole month, mom!” 

She looked up at her mother helpless, terrified of being here that long, desperate for her to fix it. 

“Just listen to the doctor baby,” Karen soothed her, focusing on Dr. King. 

“Four weeks to do physical therapy, get you walking again, get you used to doing everyday things, build up your strength,” Dr. King continued “then we will assess from there and work on driving, testing to see if you’re ready to go back to work, you’ll likely need to retake a firearms course and some police training.”

“No,” Julie said shaking her head “I’m not a cop, I just process evidence.”

“Not my call,” Dr. King said, “your bosses call, a Mr. Russell.”

Julie crossed her arms in anger and scoffed in disappointment, typical Russell.

“I know my job,” Julie insisted now rubbing her eyes, trying to shake the tiredness from them “I know blood typing and spatter and everything, ask me anything.”

“Not now,” Dr. King said, “today we need to focus on some small general physical therapy, arms and legs and all that jazz, the nurse will be by with breakfast and I’ll come get you when you’re done.”

“But,” Julie tried to process, sitting up in bed and reaching out to stop her from leaving but she could not find a reason behind her resistance. All she could do was pout, defenseless to these medical assaults. 

“I know it’s a lot to hear,” Dr. King said, “but the sooner we get you walking, the sooner you can leave here.”

With that final thought, she left the room. Julie continued to pout at her current situation while her father snatched up the medical chart and started combing through the file and therapy plan. The nurse brought breakfast a few minutes later and Julie could only make a face of disgust at what was on the tray; plain oatmeal, Jell-O, dry toast and water. 

“Bland diet until we get you used to food again,” the nurse explained, reading the confused look on Julie’s face. She continued to stare at the nurse as she left the room. 

“Here,” Karen said pushing the tray closer to Julie “just try it, you need something to eat.”

Annoyed, Julie picked up the spoon to take a scoop of oatmeal, but the spoon slipped out of her hand. She picked it up again, but her fingers struggled to grip it. Her hand refused to turn to properly scoop the food and she ended up just pushing it around like sand in a sandbox. Frustrated tears started to form when she tried it with the Jell-O and still struggled. 

“Let me help you honey,” Karen jumped in, taking the spoon from her. 

“W-why can’t I do it?” Julie asked, fearful of what it meant. 

“Muscle weakness,” Patrick explained still combing through the medical chart, “you haven’t moved in months, I saw it all the time with stroke patients.”

Julie stared at her father, heartbroken at her condition. She really was a helpless baby. She turned back to her mother when he didn’t look up from reading her chart. Karen was holding the spoon out encouragingly, cupping one hand underneath it to catch anything that might spill. 

“No,” Julie wailed “you can’t do that, that’s not right, it’s messed up.”

“Here,” Karen said gently, “let me help you.”

Complete and utter devastation crushed Julie’s soul as she accepted the spoonful of food from her mother, over and over until it was all gone. She let her lay her hand on hers and guide the spoon to practice but every other motor skill was useless. Julie couldn’t bear the awful ache in her chest at this predicament. Someone grown up needing to be fed like a child, it made her stomach hurt, or maybe it was the solid food hitting her after months of nothing. 

She barely had time to feel the flushes of shame hit her cheeks, turning them red when Dr. King returned with a physical therapist in tow. They started her off doing stupid repeat motions, lifting arms and legs over and over. A normally easy task now felt a thousand times harder. Each limb felt like a thousand pounds and bending her knees sent pain shooting up her entire leg. She was grateful that her parents left the room while this was happening, sparing her some dignity, what little she thought she had left. After two hours of that nonsense, they let her rest, promising to return with more exercises and practice. 

Alone with her crippling thoughts and useless limbs, she senses movement by the door and lifted her gaze to see Morgan and Sara at her bedside. 

“Hope we aren’t bugging you so soon after therapy,” Sara said, carrying what Julie recognized as one of her travel duffle bags from work. 

“Guys,” she sighed, happy to see them, stretching her sore arms out to hug them both. 

“You really scared us,” Morgan said, “don’t ever do that again.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Julie said jokingly to lighten the mood, the ache in her chest still present. 

“Well we figured you could use some comforts from home,” Sara explained, presenting Julie with the travel bag. She rummaged clumsily through it and found fresh clothes, undergarments, casual things like yoga pants and a robe, warm socks and slippers, and jeans and sweaters, her favorites. She sighed, feeling each article of clothing with a gentle touch, still struggling to process how long she had been trapped here for. 

“Want some help?” Sara asked when she noticed Julie struggling to slip the soft sweater over her head. 

“Sorry,” Julie mumbled, feeling helpless again as they aided her in changing. 

“Don’t be,” Morgan said, “we love you and want to help with whatever you need.”

“When I had my arm crushed by that car a few years back, I couldn’t do anything for weeks,” Sara recalled “it sucked but I survived and you did too Jules, and you will get out of here.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie sighed when she was properly dressed and comfortable, for now. 

The second round of therapy after Morgan and Sara left was pain inducing once again and left her feeling worse than the first time. She felt numbness in her legs and her arms felt like jelly, flailing around helplessly at her side. Worse still was the tremble in her hands when she tried to hold a pencil, a spoon, other random tools the therapist gave her. All the while a nurse scribbled her poor progress on her chart which her father snatched the moment, he returned to study line by line, much to her great annoyance. 

“Do you have to read that stupid thing?” Julie snapped at him, grabbing her sore knee and wincing in pain after the therapist and nurse left. 

“I need to keep up with your treatment,” Patrick justified his reading, prying, snooping, that’s how it made her feel. 

“It’s only been a day,” Julie snapped “clearly nothing’s changed.”

She waved her hands over her body trapped in the bed still. Cringing when a wave of pain shot up her leg again. 

“I need to get out of here,” she complained, restless, tossing back the covers in frustration. 

“Absolutely not,” Karen scolded her daughter. 

“Let her go,” Patrick said now to both their surprise “she thinks she knows better than the doctors, let her do what she wants, come on kid, walk, prove it to me.” 

“Patrick,” Karen said in a warning tone, had he forgotten how stubborn their child was? 

Julie grinned smugly as she sat up on the side of the bed, braced herself with the railing and let her feet touch the ground. When she stood, she only felt the solid ground beneath the slippers she wore for a second before her legs buckled and gave out beneath her. Hitting the ground sent more pain up her side and she cursed herself for failing. Worse still was the struggle to stand again. She had no strength in her arms to pull herself back up. 

“See?” Patrick said coolly to Julie “see what happened, you’re not ready.”

Julie shot him a scathing look of pure hatred as she finally forced herself to use all her strength and scoot clumsily back into the bed. Hot tears started to fall down her face, tears of shame and embarrassment as well as feeling foolish for her smug sense of capability after just one day of therapy. Angry, she flung the covers back over herself, burrowing into the pillow again, turning away from her parents and sobbing. 

“Patrick,” Karen scolded him again, rushing to the other side of the bed to console Julie. 

“She had to learn the hard way,” he justified his trick “now will you listen?”

“Go away!” Julie half sobbed; half yelled at him, choking on her own tears. It was Karen’s turn to shoot him a scathing look as she nodded towards the door. Patrick held his hands up in defense of his actions, having raised this stubborn, hot headed child into an even more reckless, headstrong woman, he knew she would see reason soon. But for now, he was paying for the unconventional parenting method he employed today. The last thing he heard as he shut the door on his way out was Julie’s heartbreaking sob of “I hate him!” and Karen’s soft voice, trying to soothe her.


	4. Chapter 4

Karen consoled Julie as best as she could, but she was devastated in this moment. Patrick had gone too far in pushing her, tricking her into a false sense of confidence. Tough love was how they had spent a good portion of their time raising Julie but after this trauma, it was not the right way to get her to listen. 

“I hate him,” Julie lashed out again to her mother, her voice muffled from where she had buried her face in her pillow, sobbing. 

“Honey, your daddy didn’t mean it,” Karen tried to soothe her “he wants you to take your time and not push yourself too hard, we both do.”

“I just want to go home,” she cried, lifting her face from the pillows to stare at her mother, tears cascading down her face. 

Karen couldn’t bear this agony her sweet angel was going through. But she couldn’t magically make her better in one day either. 

“Soon baby girl,” was all she could offer her as she smoothed her hair back, feeling how hot her forehead was from crying. Julie’s wail in disappointment at that answer pierced her heart as she watched her bury her face back into her pillow, defeated. 

As Karen expected, Julie cried herself to sleep. It was reminiscent of her tantrums as a two-year-old that they had to let her sit in her bed and cry them out until she calmed down. Whatever anguished her at such a young age was nothing compared to her pain right now, she had every right to throw a fit. Karen watched over her like she had done every time she fell asleep, tracing her fingers over her face again, counting those freckles, wiping away tear tracks delicately, mothering the only way she knew how. Unfortunately, Julie did not stay asleep for long. She woke up suddenly and with a face of discomfort, cringing at the daylight still occupying the room. 

“Don’t look at it,” Karen whispered, shielding her eyes from the window, smoothing her hair again comfortingly. 

But Julie didn’t answer her verbally, she just stared at her with a pained expression.

“What baby?” Karen asked, wondering if she was trying to tell her something. 

“My head hurts,” was the response Julie uttered and Karen’s heart skyrocketed through her chest at that declaration.

“Your- your head?” she asked again, making sure she heard correctly. 

Julie nodded but that simple motion caused pain to shoot through her skull. 

“Where?” Karen demanded now “show me.”

Julie placed her hand on her forehead, dragging it across the entire length of it and muttering “everywhere,” weakly. 

Panic set in as Karen pushed the button to page the doctor. Karen may not have gone to medical school, but she had a sinking feeling that a headache after a coma was a big deal, and after all the blows to her head she suffered, plus the surgery to relieve the pressure, anything could have gone wrong, been set off, like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode. 

When Dr. King arrived, Karen tried not to let the panic show in her voice as she informed her “She’s complaining of a headache.” Dr. King gave her a concerned look, almost as if she expected this but was hopeful it would not transpire. 

“All right,” she said, “we’ll get her back to the lab and run some tests, another MRI, check for any swelling or bleeding.”

Through her fading subconscious, Julie could hear them talking about tests. Her pain was too intense to protest it aside from the heart-breaking whimper she let out to get her mother’s attention.

“Sweetheart,” Karen began, making sure Julie looked at her as she explained “they have to make sure this isn’t anything bad okay?”

“What about- dad?” Julie asked weakly now. As angry as she was with him, he would know something about coma patients, something about recovery, she wanted him to tell her first. She trusted his medical advice and expertise even if he hurt her feelings earlier. 

“I’ll find him,” Karen promised. 

“We don’t have time,” Dr. King said to their horror “the sooner we take a look, the sooner we will have answers,”

Julie protested with another whimper and a frantic, desperate reach for her mother as she was taken out of the room, her head pounding, fitting to burst from her skull, tears falling again, agony overtaking her, anguish and fear making her heart race, her stomach hurt, and everything around her started to spin violently. The last thing she saw was her mothers worried face as she could not hold back her tears this time and that terrified her even more. 

Patrick avoided Julie’s room for a good two hours, sitting in the lobby downstairs, combing through his briefcase full of medical books and journals, other various literature, searching for any case or patient suffering a similar fate to Julie. His eyes burned from exhaustion and reading so much in such a short time. To his disappointment, most coma patients never fully regained one hundred percent ranges of motion or full cognitive abilities after waking up, there was always something persistent that kept them from being normal; a weak arm or leg, chronic pain, headaches, emotional problems, memory issues, it was all too much to bear for Julie if this fate awaited her. He was so distracted; he did not feel his cell phone vibrate in his pocket nor did he have the energy to look at it. It was not until he heard Karen’s sharp voice right beside him did, he snap out of his trance. 

“There you are!” she called exasperated “I’ve been calling you, texting you, what are you doing?”

“Research,” he said tiredly “for Julie.”

“Well you better come back upstairs with me,” Karen insisted now “Dr. King took her for more tests, after you got all snarky with her, she cried herself to sleep and woke up with a headache.”

Patrick snapped his head up to look at her so fast, he felt his neck crack. 

“A headache?” he repeated, horrified “that’s not good.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Karen snapped at him “she’s hurting, and she needed you and you were hiding down here.”

“Well you told me to leave,” he reminded her sheepishly. 

“Yeah but you were supposed to come back,” Karen protested, tears in her eyes now “we can’t do this to her, fight over her care, fight over how stubborn she is, and you with those damn medical books, reading her chart like it’s the bible, she doesn’t need that, she needs her daddy, not another doctor!” 

Karen finished that statement with a sniffle and a tear-filled stare at Patrick. She was right. She always was. He rose from his seat and embraced her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t thinking, this whole thing has been crazy, and I guess I just don’t know how to handle it.” 

He felt her nod against his chest where she had buried her face, sobbing. 

“I’ll be better,” he promised her now “when they bring her back from the test, I’ll sit with her, you should go home and get some sleep.”

It was a battle between Karen’s heart, soul and mind in deciding what to do. She was exhausted but her baby needed her, but she could not keep functioning without proper rest. If Patrick was true to his word, she would be okay at home for a few hours. 

Patrick took Karen back to their floor to wait for Julie. Dr. King came back to them within an hour and said they had not found any bleeding, any damage to her brain or her skull and the fractures from February were healing like normal. 

“She was upset when we took her back there and we couldn’t calm her down so we gave her a little something to take the edge off,” Dr. King explained “she’ll be asleep for a while but you can still stay with her, sometimes a headache is just a headache.”

“It’s my fault,” Patrick admitted “I got her upset when she kept pushing to go home.”

“Stress can do that,” Dr. King agreed with his ruling “we’ll monitor her, but for now, she’s fine.” 

Relieved that Julie was in a state of calm and free of pain for now, Karen took Patrick up on his promise and left the hospital to rest at the Russell’s where they had been living for the past three months. Alone with Julie now, Patrick pulled up the chair he favored during this whole ordeal and sat down right beside the bed to watch over her. She looked at peace, laying on her side facing him, not shouting or crying or being angry with herself and her body. Her hands lay curled up against her chest, the majority of her curls had flattened, and it pained him to see her without her usual spunk. Nevertheless, he sat by her side, quiet, lost in thoughts of her; her recovery so far, of the pain still to come, of her on the swing set at the park when she was six, swinging higher and higher against Karen’s orders, jumping off and landing perfectly while the other kids cheered, to her at age eight, falling off her bike and scraping both her knees, how she sat bravely while he treated her wounds and bandaged her up, providing her with ice cream for her troubles which she ate happily on the porch, of the home run she smacked out of the park in the kids sized baseball field when she was nine, how she ran those bases with such vigor and excitement, screaming her victory with her teammates, running right to him afterwards and leaping in his arms, she was still so tiny back then, smaller than most of the kids in her class but he didn’t care, he got to hold her a little bit longer because of it. 

He wished she was that small right now so he could scoop her up and take her away from all this. She would wake up in her own bed with her own blankets and he would tell her that he rescued her, and he would tell her stories, fairytales, science stuff, whatever she wanted, and she would fall asleep again, at peace. But for now, all of those thoughts were nostalgic flashbacks and silly fantasies of wanting to rescue her. She was more than capable of saving herself but after all of this, he liked to think she still needed him like Karen said. He would just have to wait and see. 

Hours passed and darkness fell. The hospital hustle and bustle quieted around him as a few nurses stopped in to check on Julie every few hours or so, but she remained the same; asleep. It wasn’t until close to six in the morning did he hear her sigh softly from where she lay, and he saw her start to move. He tossed aside his medical files, stuffing them back into his briefcase as he sat forward and waited for her to wake up. When she finally opened her eyes and saw him, he offered her a small smile of what he hoped was encouragement.

“Daddy?” she whispered tiredly to him, surprised to see him but thankful he came back. 

“Hey kiddo,” he whispered back, reaching out to push her hair back and look into her tired eyes “how do you feel?”

“Fine I guess,” she mumbled “where’s mom?”

“I sent her home to get some rest,” Patrick informed her. 

“Not fair,” Julie bit back in tired sarcasm. 

“Honey I’m sorry,” Patrick said continuing to smooth her hair back “I wish I could make you better right now so we could take you home, but you know we can’t, you have to do therapy first.”

“I know,” Julie admitted sadly “I’m sorry I got mad, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, you were right, I don’t hate you.”

She stretched her arm out, twitching her fingers towards him, wanting to hold his hand but feeling too weak to keep her arm outstretched for too long. 

“Don’t you ever be sorry,” Patrick insisted, taking her hand in his and squeezing “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that; it was mean and I’m sorry, can you forgive me kiddo?”

Julie nodded to his relief but even that slow motion exhausted her. Her arms and legs felt like dead weight, useless as she lay motionless in this bed. She felt hungover but had not touched alcohol in months. As she lay there, contemplating what to do next, she felt a sharp pain shoot up her right leg, radiating to her knee and further down to her ankle. She could not contain the cry that escaped her as she grabbed her leg with both hands, curling up as the pain continued to throb. 

“What?” Patrick asked, alarmed by her sudden cry in pain “what is it?”

“My leg,” she complained “it hurts.”

No sooner did she tell him that, did she feel the same pain shoot up her left leg, the pain in the muscle making it twitch and ache intensely. She could not help but cry again as she reached for her left leg, biting her lip, trying to stifle the painful sensations. Patrick felt helpless, not sure if he should page Dr. King again and put her through more tests. He knew muscles that were under or overworked could cramp up and in her case, she was likely experiencing both. Seeing her struggle was unbearable so he put pressure on her right leg with his hands, hoping to alleviate some of her pain. She lay back, helpless, breathing hard, begging her body to stop hurting her. When her eyes met Patrick’s again, she pierced him with a sad look, her bright eyes looking tired and worn. In that moment he felt rage, rage towards the man who had put her through this and was still causing her pain this very moment. That was his internal struggle, he could not get revenge for his daughter. 

“Kiddo I’m so sorry,” he said now “this never should have happened to you, you shouldn’t be here like this, that bastard, that whole case, someone should have protected you, I should have been there, I wasn’t there and I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Julie told him, realizing he was just as upset about her situation as she was “not, your fault.”

She stopped talking to tense up as another wave of pain hit her leg. After several agonizing minutes of pain and trying to fight it, slowly it began to ease. First her right leg, then her left. The spasms stopped and she no longer had to hold her leg. 

“I think it’s done,” she told her father, but he continued to squeeze her leg, grateful she was okay for now but wondering, worriedly, what further pain would she be subjected to?


	5. Chapter 5

Karen had the best night of sleep she had in ages. For the first time in months, she did not toss and turn and lay awake with worry and fear over Julie. She planned to return to the hospital as soon as possible this morning after packing up a few surprises for Julie, books from her condo, more clothes and a blanket gifted to her from Barbara Russell who knew how much Julie loved to be wrapped up and cozy and warm and was likely missing that basic comfort. When Karen entered the hospital room, gifts in tow, she spotted Julie awake and sitting up in her bed, Patrick beside her helping maneuver her hand over a piece of paper she discovered was the weekly crossword puzzle on closer inspection. 

“Good morning,” Karen announced her arrival and Julie greeted her with a big smile. 

“Look what I can do now!” she gushed happily as she gripped a pencil tightly in her hand and wrote slowly inside the tiny answer boxes of the crossword puzzle. 

“That’s wonderful baby,” Karen praised her, kissing her cheek “did Dr. King approve of this?”

“Of course,” Patrick answered, knowing the question was directed towards him more than Julie “she and I both realized the tiny boxes would be an extra challenge for her to focus on steadying her hand.”

Karen peered over at the puzzle and noticed almost every box was filled in with the correct answers in Julie’s familiar scrawl. It lifted her spirits and created a warm sense of relief in her chest. 

“I can hold the spoon too,” Julie gushed of her accomplishment “I practiced all morning and I got it!”

“How long have you two been at this?” Karen asked, brushing Julie’s hair back to look into her eyes searching for signs of exhaustion. 

“Well she slept all night and was awake early, so we got a head start,” Patrick explained “the therapist is coming soon to get her walking.”

“I’m fine,” Julie insisted to her mother who lingered, watching her closely but Julie turned her head away and focused on the crossword puzzle again. She bit her lip, concentrating, tapping the pencil back and forth slow but steady, pressing the lead to the paper as she filled in another answer. It was a chance to exercise her body and her brain. Seeing her so content and focused made Karen smile at Patrick, happy for his change in how he approached Julie’s care. A soft knock at the door made all three of them glance up. The pencil in Julie’s hand slipped from her grip and fell onto the tiny table in front of her as she gapped at the visitor in front of her. 

“Nicky,” she breathed, feeling an intense ache in her chest at the sight of him standing there, just as she remembered seeing him last, all those months ago, at work, when she fought with him about how involved she was getting in The Gig Harbor case. She felt her cheeks flush with a mixture of guilt, shame and adoration for him. Their relationship prior to her attack was the best thing in her life. Would he even want to be with her again? Had he already found someone else?

“Hey sweetness,” he murmured, quiet, soft, stepping into the room slowly “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No,” Julie said, pushing the tiny table away from her and stretching her arms out towards him. 

He sensed that as permission to get closer to her, although he was nervous, unaware of what she remembered or not and if she even still wanted him after all this time. Still, he could not resist crossing into the room and embracing her, being careful as he pulled her close, worried about hurting her in case there were leftover injuries he could not see. When he felt her arms tighten around him, he relaxed, knowing she was comfortable with this. 

“I missed you,” she cried, realizing it for the first time since waking up. 

“I missed you more,” he replied, “way more.”

And she believed him. While the coma robbed her of time, it made time stand still for him and everyone else in her life who sat her watching her waste away before whatever jolt brought her back to life. She still did not know. 

“Did Russell call you?” she asked now, wondering how he knew to come and see her.

“Yeah,” he admitted, wanting to just hold her and be still but he knew she would have thousands of questions and would need answers. 

“What took you so long to come and see me?” she asked and that broke his heart. 

“Sweetheart I live in San Diego now,” he explained “remember that job?”

“You took it,” she said breathlessly, breaking away from their hug. 

“It’s a great opportunity for me, for us,” he explained, tucking her hair behind her ears delicately. 

She nodded but pierced him with a sad look. 

“Nicky, Vegas is my home now,” she said, covering his hand with hers weakly “I love it here, I don’t want to leave.” 

He nodded in understanding, giving her a reassuring smile. 

“We’ll be just fine,” he promised her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting her know it was all going to be okay, making her smile. 

In their moment of bliss, she had forgotten all about her parents hovering nearby, watching this exchange unfold. It wasn’t until she heard her father clear his throat did, she snap out of her daydream with Nick and turn to look at them. 

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I forgot,” she said “guys, this is Nick, he’s a CSI with me in Vegas, well not anymore, now he got this wonderful job in San Diego and we, well, uh, we’re together.”

She beamed, holding Nick’s hand as she finished explaining. Patrick and Karen gaped at her, then at Nick who was also smiling. It took a moment for the news to sink in but after a few silent seconds, Karen beamed and said, “That’s wonderful, it’s so nice to meet you.”

She reached out to shake Nick’s hand with both of hers. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” he apologized “the job is so new, taking time off was frowned upon right away, but Russell kept me updated and as soon as he called me, I got a flight.”

“That was two days ago,” Patrick spoke up now in an icy tone, arms crossed “she’s been awake for two days.”

“I know that,” Nick said “it took me a while to work up the nerve and come and see her, I was nervous she wouldn’t remember me or want anything to do with me, but that was mt problem, I sorted it out and came right here, I love her.” 

He ended it with that sentiment and Julie smiled, lifting his hand to kiss his fingers, nuzzling her cheek against his hand, having missed his warmth and love so much. 

Patrick still stared at him, unconvinced. 

“She has therapy to complete,” he said now “maybe now is not the best time for visitors.”

“Oh, stop it,” Karen scolded him “let’s leave them be.”

She ushered Patrick away from the room, but he hesitated, wanting to be there for her walking therapy sessions. But Karen continued to push him, waving goodbye to Nick and Julie who waved back. Julie could sense her father’s resistance to this relationship, but she didn’t care, all she wanted was to be with Nick and catch up on all she had missed in his life while she was stuck here. 

“So,” she said after her parents finally left the room, leaning back in against her pillows comfortably, “tell me all about San Diego.”


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s the walk down to the beach, that’s the dock with all the boats, and there’s the little ice cream shop,” Nick rattled off details about each new place he had discovered in San Diego while laying in the hospital bed with Julie; something most hospitals frowned upon but in her extreme case, they allowed it. 

Julie watched Nick scroll through the photos on his phone, leaning against him tiredly, her eyes following along in wonder, fantasizing about going there with him. 

“And I promise, as soon as you get the clear from the doctors, I’m going to take you there and show you everything.” Nick concluded his tour with a kiss to her forehead. 

“I can’t wait,” she sighed “I wish I could go there with you now.”

She held his hand again, gripping it with a weak hold, loving how warm his skin was against hers which was cold. 

“I know,” he soothed “we’ll get there soon enough.”

As they sat there, staring at each other, taking in all the familiar emotions they shared together, he wondered what else might be going through her mind right now. Did she remember the events from that night? Despite the trauma, she still seemed to glow with the same radiant energy she had prior to the attack. All she wanted to do was sit here with him and listen to him talk about the beach and the life they were going to have together once she was free to leave this hospital. They both looked up when they heard movement at the door and saw one of her nurses there with a wheelchair. 

“Okay Miss Finlay,” she announced, “time to head to your therapy session.” 

“Can Nick come too?” she asked still holding her hand. 

The nurse gave him a skeptical look. 

“We’re together,” he said, “I promise I won’t interfere with whatever you guys have planned.”

“All right,” the nurse agreed. 

As awful as it felt having to use a wheelchair to get around, Julie was comfortable letting Nick walk with her and the nurse to the therapy room. As he pushed her slowly down the hallway, she leaned back, tilting her head backwards to glance up at him and make a silly face which he responded to with a kiss for her, making her giggle, delighted. The old, spunky, playful her was still there. 

************************************************************************************  
Patrick could not stop pacing the lobby floor where he and Karen had taken refuge in while waiting for Julie and Nick to catch up on their missed time. How long did that take? He had heard nothing about this man prior to today and yet she seemed so smitten with him, so trusting, so at ease. Was he genuine or just putting on a show for their sake? How much did he really know about her? The longer they sat there, the more anxious he became. How was the therapy session going? Was she in pain? Did she need him there to go over the procedures and pain management with her? His mind raced with so many thoughts of Julie and her treatment and of this Nick fellow who just swooped in here like prince charming with no knowledge of her pain and what she had endured. When he could no longer tolerate the wait, he abandoned the lobby and started walking back towards the elevators. Karen called for him, but he ignored her, pushing the button to open the doors with a little more force than needed. The last thing he saw as the doors shut was Karen’s confused look. 

When he stepped off the elevator, he could hear her giggling from outside the room and Nick’s voice muffed behind the door. Patrick knocked as he entered. Nick was seated on the bed facing Julie who was sitting up, smiling, chatting away with him. He had to clear his throat to get their attention.

“Hey,” Julie said cheerfully when she saw him “where’s mom?”

“Uh, downstairs,” Patrick half lied “I just came back to check on you and see how therapy went.”

“She did great,” Nick praised Julie “she wanted to do extra and they let her this time.”

“They let you in with her?” Patrick asked, confused but also horrified at that thought.

“Well yeah I’m her boyfriend,” Nick explained, and Patrick cringed at the way he spoke.

“It’s supposed to be private,” Patrick scolded him “she needs to work during those sessions.”

“I asked Nick to be there with me,” Julie interrupted their argument “I want him here, don’t you even care that Dr. King said I might be able to go home sooner since I’ve been doing so well?”

“That’s great,” Patrick said coldly “it really is, but you can’t be distracted if you want to get out of here.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Julie snapped back “why are you being so weird about this?”

“Because you got hurt slugger,” Patrick explained “really bad, but you survived and beat all kinds of odds, I’m a doctor and I’ve seen people never come back the same and it kills them and everyone around them, I just want you to be normal again slugger, and to do that, you have to work hard, does he even know what happened? Does he know what you’ve been through?”

“I know her well enough,” Nick defended their relationship “I know how hard she’s working, she’s going to be just fine, sounds like you’re the only one who doubts her.”

The silence that followed was eerie, gut wrenching and awkward. Nick didn’t want to fight with Julie’s father, but he was being unreasonable, focusing on her pain and not on her joy in these small moments of victory in her therapy and being able to be with someone who cared about her deeply. 

“If that’s how you feel,” Patrick said coolly “if you think you know better, I’ll let you be then.”

He backed out of the room and Julie shared a sad look with Nick. 

“I’m sorry,” Julie said, “I didn’t want you guys to fight.”

“He’ll come around,” Nick assured her “he’s just overprotective and he cares about you.”

She hoped with all her heart that was just the case and nothing else was really going on that he was keeping hidden from her. 

***********************************************************************

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Karen scolded her husband when he returned to the lobby and told her of the fight with Nick “now I better go do damage control and you better find some way to apologize mister!” 

She left him and he could not help but pace anxiously. He felt a mixture of guilt and anguish for the fight but also a sense of justification for his defense of Julie. This man had no idea what she went through, he was not prepared to handle whatever emotional fallout would occur from having lived through this nightmare. He did not know what it was like to be trapped in darkness then suddenly brought back to life, not knowing what day it was or how much time had passed. And he certainly would not be one to stick around for her when she needed him once her recovery continued outside the hospital. She needed genuine support and care. Who knew how long it could take for her to even get back to work? Would he be willing to put up with caring for her when she needed it? 

As he paced, his eyes landed on the gift shop just a few yards away. A thought occurred to him as he marched over to the shop and browsed, eyes landing on a stuffed teddy bear, with soft fur and squishy arms and legs, it was perfect. As he made his way back to her room, he hoped this could be the start of an apology or at least a way for her to see reason with him that focusing on Nick right now was a bad idea. 

No sooner had he turned the corner and stepped into view of her room did he see, through the slightly open blinds, Julie with Nick, cradling a stuffed animal dog and beaming with delight. The guy had beat him to it. He felt a surge of disappointment mixed with a twinge of jealousy over not being able to spoil her the way she deserved because someone else had taken over that role. He tried to back away without being noticed but unfortunately Karen spotted him and waved him into the room. He entered but kept the bear hidden behind his back as he shuffled inside. 

“Daddy look,” Julie gushed when she saw him, seeming to have forgotten the fight, holding up the toy dog for him to see, “look what Nicky got me!” 

“That’s cute slugger,” he said plainly, feeling a pang of sadness again. 

Unfortunately, she noticed the awkward way he was keeping his arms behind his back and she craned her neck to see what he was hiding. 

“What are you doing?” she asked giving him a funny look. 

“Oh, nothing,” Patrick tried to cover his awkward moment “I just uh, I went shopping downstairs and thought you might like something.”

He reluctantly revealed the teddy bear to her, and her eyes lit up. She stretched her arms out excitedly for it and he presented it to her. 

“I love it” she gushed, hugging it to her chest “now I have two!” 

She cradled both toys happily, loving how soft the material felt and how comforting it was to have something tangible to hold while she was here. Karen and Nick smiled watching her. Not even five minutes after holding on to both toys did, she announce that she was tired and she settled back in her bed, dozing within seconds. 

“Look, I uh, I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Patrick began, sheepishly, taking advantage of the quiet to apologize, “I didn’t mean to pick a fight, I just want what’s best for her.”

“Me too,” Nick said, “I plan on staying with her, helping her when she needs it, just, being there, that’s what she wants.”

“But you’ve got to know how scary this was for her and us,” Patrick continued “not knowing what was going to happen to her, hoping everyday for a miracle while she sat here trapped in darkness, I don’t think we will ever fully know what that was like for her or anyone whose been through a coma, she might not be the same again, she might defy all the odds, I don’t know, but I hope you’re prepared to fight with her like we are.”

“Absolutely,” Nick said fiercely “and uh, just so you both know, that darkness you keep talking about, I know exactly how that feels.” 

“How so?” Patrick asked, skeptical. 

Nick sighed and pulled out his cell phone, swiping to a link he saved to make things easier to explain in moments like this when he needed to make a strong point. He watched their faces turn from one expression to another, ones of horror and shock as they read what he endured on a copy of the case file from two thousand five. 

“This is you?” Patrick questioned the authenticity of the crime. 

“Yeah,” Nick said casually, not really sure how to keep talking about it but if it meant getting them to understand what he felt in relation to Julie, he would keep going. 

“That is awful,” Karen said, reaching out to Nick “you poor thing, how did you ever survive?”

“Right away? Just my willpower I guess,” Nick explained “but after meeting her? She turned my whole world right side up. She makes me want to be a better person, she makes me want to fight and keep fighting, so don’t think for a second I won’t spend every minute of the rest of my life making sure she’s loved the way she deserves.” 

He stopped to look back at Julie who was curled up, asleep, so peaceful, clutching those stuffed animals tight, breathing in a slow, rhythmic way that let them know she was alive and at ease. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nick assured them with one final declaration of his love. 

Therapy took a toll on Julie and she stayed asleep for several hours. As a show of good faith, Nick took Karen out to dinner at a real restaurant instead of the plain hospital food they had all been living off of for days. Patrick stayed behind to be with Julie so she would not wake up alone and scared, wondering where they went. As he watched over her, he mentally kicked himself for giving her so much grief about Nick. After reading the man’s story of survival, he no longer had any doubts that Nick would care for her in the right ways and he felt somewhat reassured that they would not be battling her recovery alone. She continued to keep the stuffed animals close to her, tucking one arm around them, pressing them tightly to her chest, they no doubt were keeping her warm along with the blanket Karen brought from Barbara Russell. She kept her other arm outstretched, dangling just over the edge of the bed. She was a wild sleeper by habit and being confined to the smaller bed only further annoyed her restless soul. 

Unable to resist, he reached out and brushed her fingers with his, unfolding them to get to the palm of her hand where he traced the lines delicately the way Karen had done yesterday to her face. When he saw her arm twitch, he regretted disturbing her slumber as she shifted and woke up, not meaning to, only wanting to bring her comfort after all the trouble he had caused today. 

“Sorry,” he whispered when she squinted up at him in annoyance. 

“Where’s Nicky?” she asked immediately.

“He went with your mother to get something to eat,” Patrick explained “they’ll be back soon.”

“I see you approve of him now?” she questioned his sudden calm demeanor. 

“I suppose, if I have to,” he sighed in fake annoyance. 

“Daddy,” she scolded him and his response. 

“I’m only teasing slugger,” he confessed “I apologized to him, he’s a good guy and he wants to be here with you, who are we to stop him?”

“Glad you came to your senses,” she mocked of his attitude earlier “did mom make you say that stuff?” 

“No, it’s all me, I promise,” he said, making the “scouts honor” gesture. 

Julie managed a small smile then a yawn, covering it with her hand then readjusting the hold on her stuffed animals, cuddling them closer to her chest and sighing. As a doctor, Patrick knew the heart was incapable of exploding, but his was likely to with the amount of adoration for her and all she had overcome in just a few short days.


	7. Chapter 7

Three Weeks Later 

June 5th 2015 

Julie sat cross legged on the bed she had occupied for weeks, technically months, but only three weeks that she was cognitively aware of. She wore blue jeans, grey ankle socks, a dark blue shirt layered with a tank top underneath, clutching her cell phone tightly in her hand while anxiously awaiting Dr. King to make her rounds for the day. 

Her belongings, clothes, gifts, blankets, had all been packed away in two duffle bags, just two zipper canvas bags were all she had accumulated in her stay here. She was surprised there was not more. The bouquet of flowers she received from her co-workers, former colleagues in Seattle, Nick and others had long since faded but she had made sure to take pictures of them to save on her phone. 

All her medical files are charts were stacked in a neat pile on the tiny roll out table that had served as a dining surface, writing surface and general storage space while she was here. She had letters from therapists, neurologists, psychologists, and the staff here at Desert Palm whom had all observed her, worked with her and finally, finally given her the okay to be released. 

Patrick, Karen and Nick were all hovering in the room, seated in random chairs as they too awaited Dr. King. 

“How much longer?” Julie asked in vain. 

“Soon,” Karen reminded Julie but that vague answer was not enough.

Julie fidgeted on the bed, tired of laying in it and preferring to sit on top of the covers, anxious to be at home, more importantly, at the home she and Nick shared prior to the coma, the home he opened up to her all those years ago and made her feel safe there, in her own bed, with her own couch and TV and food. She could not wait to eat normal food again. Just thinking about pizza from her favorite place made her stomach growl. Her thoughts of a cheese pizza just for her, oozing with cheese and grease, were interrupted by Dr. King entering the room at last, knocking softly as she did. 

“Howdy folks,” she greeted everyone “hi Julie.” 

“Hi,” Julie replied sitting up eagerly like a student waiting for a test to be handed back. 

Dr. King pulled up a rolling chair and sat in front of the bed to read the chart. 

“All right,” she announced “you completed the four week program in three week which is excellent, all your motor skills have returned to normal with the exception of some weakness when exerted for too long so keep that in mind when you try and complete any tasks, your cognitive function is at full capacity prior to the injury, aside from the occasional headache and tiredness, you are in good shape, well done.”

Julie felt proud of her recovery, unable to hide her smile. 

“Now, lets discuss your release plan,” Dr. King continued “where will you reside once you leave the hospital?”

Both Julie and Patrick replied at the same time, uttering “Vegas” and “Philly” in unison. Julie gaped at him, menacingly. 

“Our home in in close proximity to the University Hospital where I know every doctor on staff and who can provide her the best care,” Patrick said. 

“Daddy no!” Julie protested him immediately “I want to stay here in Vegas, Nicky and I were living together before all this happened, I want to be here with him.”

“Is that really the best option?” Patrick asked. 

“I told you,” Nick said standing up and hovering beside Julie “I’m with her one hundred percent, that includes getting us both back to normal, in our house.”

“But- “Patrick tried to protest but Karen hushed him. 

“She will have to visit the hospital at least twice a week for follow ups for a month or so anyways,” Dr. King explained, settling the matter on where Julie would stay. She crossed her arms in triumph. 

“Now, Ms. Julie, you must also sign off on your file,” Dr. King explained “that includes your signed documentation that you will not return to work until we clear you to and you will not drive until we clear you to, those will be determined within the next few months during your therapy, understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Julie said as she signed off on the paperwork. 

“All right,” Dr. King said scooping up the paperwork and placing it in a manila folder “I think we are in good shape; you are free to go.”

Julie sighed “Thank you,” relieved, hardly daring to believe it, she got through everything, faster than predicted and she felt good. No more fog in her head, no pain, no weakness, no tremble of her hands. She looked right at Nick who was gathering up her luggage. 

“You did it,” he praised her, kissing the top of her head “ready to go home?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed; relief evident in her voice. 

Leaving the hospital, first by wheelchair as required by the hospital, then physically walking out of the building and into Nick’s SUV was surreal. The sun felt so warm on her skin, it had been ages since she had been outside. Karen and Patrick rode in the backseat and Julie rolled down the window of the passenger seat to let the breeze rush around her and feel like she was flying. At the house, they unloaded the trunk of her luggage and entered the front door. Sam immediately started barking at their sudden arrival, jumping around them all, sniffing at the duffel bags, whining when he saw Julie, recognizing her but also unsure of her presence after her absence for so long. 

“You have a dog?” Patrick said, shocked. 

“He’s a retired police dog,” Nick explained “perfectly trained and perfectly safe.”

“A little loud,” Patrick complained of the barking “she’s going to end up with a headache with all that noise.”

“He missed me,” Julie explained, kneeling down and coaxing the dog over to her. Sam wandered close but hovered, nervous, tail down, ears perked. But Julie continued to hold her arms out, calling for him and slowly, he ambled over to her, sniffing her face, seeming to recognize her at last and wagging his tail happily. He sniffed at her hair, licked her face, sniffed her clothes and her hands and whined. She giggled at the contact, running her hands over his soft fur, a familiar routine, one of comfort and security. She really missed this life prior to the coma and experiencing it now was surreal. Had all that time really passed? Everything in Nick’s home, in their home, looked the same, felt the same, with the addition of her parents tagging along to help her get settled. 

With Sam at ease, she scooted him into the living room and immediately laid down on the floor with him like they used to do all the time. She rolled toys to him, let him pounce around her and sniff her hair and her face, rolling around and being ridiculous, laughing hysterically at how wonderful it was to get back to normal. 

“I think she’ll be just fine,” Nick said to Patrick of his original complaint regarding Sam’s noise. Watching her play like the happy, energetic person she always was, reassured him that she was slowly getting back to normal. 

After a few minutes of rough housing with Sam however, she made a slow crawl towards the couch and settled on it, covering a yawn and laying back on the fluffy pillows. 

“Tired?” Nick asked her, sitting beside her. 

“A little,” she admitted. 

“See, I knew it was too much too soon,” Patrick scolded the early dismissal from the hospital. 

“Leave her be Patrick,” Karen scolded him now “Dr. King said if she’s tired, let her sleep, let her feel what she feels, it’s going to help her get back to normal.”   
Julie rolled her eyes, ignoring their fighting over her, stretching her legs out, resting them in Nick’s lap, tossing one arm over her head to rest on the pillows behind her and sighing. Her parents bickering did not even phase her exhausted subconscious as she dozed within minutes, turning over to lay on her side, curling up, feeling Nick drape a blanket over her before she was completely out. 

She woke up to whispers, hushed voices all around her and the smell of food. She curled up under the blanket, still on the couch, trying to make herself smaller, soothed by the warmth of the fabric she was wrapped in. Her eyes struggled to open even though her subconscious was processing sounds and smells around her. She forced her eyes to move at last, squinting in the semi dark living room. It must be dinner time, she deduced from the shadows on the wall indicating a sunset or close to it. She raised one hand weakly to her face to rub her eyes, trying to shake the sleepiness from them. 

“Nicky?” she called for him softly. 

“Right here sweetness,” his voice called out to her close by. 

She felt a hand on her forehead, sweep her hair back and place a kiss there gently. 

“What time is it?” she asked, groggy. 

“Five thirty,” he informed her, and she let out a groan of irritation, yanking the blanket over her head to hide, she had been asleep since lunch time when they first got home, almost five solid hours. 

“It’s okay,” Nick soothed her, patting her back when he could no longer kiss her forehead “we made dinner if you’re hungry.”

At the mention of food, she perked up a little, stretching out across the couch, letting the blanket slip away and burying her face into the pillow instead. 

“I don’t feel hungry,” she informed him, muffled from keeping her face buried in the pillow. 

“That’s okay,” Nick soothed “we saved you a plate in the fridge for when you are.”

She nodded to show him she understood but it took all her strength to make that simple motion. As groggy as she felt and as much of a struggle it was to make her body move, she slowly forced her arms and legs to work, lifting her head from the pillow at last and sitting up to look at Nick, the blanket draped loosely around her shoulders, her eyes holding a heavy gaze.

“You should get some rest,” he encouraged her “but upstairs in the bedroom, it’s comfier up there.”

“I need a shower first,” she insisted now “I smell like hospital and it’s gross.”

Even though he tried to assure her she smelled perfectly fine, she insisted on heading upstairs to the master bathroom for a hot shower and fresh clothes.

“Do you need any help?” Nick asked her as she stood on wobbly legs.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, carrying herself up the stairs one at a time, slower than usual, holding on to the railing to steady herself. 

Alone in the privacy of the master bathroom tucked away safely in their bedroom, Julie tended to the faucets, adjusting the water to make it warm but not too hot. She tossed away all her clothes into the hamper and let the warm water wash over her. Standing there made her feel sleepy and she had to focus to keep herself awake. Squeezing her favorite tropical scented shampoo out of the bottle hurt her hand. She dropped the soap and bumped her head on the faucet when she bent down to retrieve it. Every action took longer than she was accustomed to. It was relief to turn off the water and wrap herself in towels, struggling to dry off and slip into some comfortable sweats, warm socks and a Seattle Seahawks T-shirt. She stood fully dressed in front of the mirror above the sink in the bathroom, arms raised, struggling to style her hair. She felt weak, like her arms were dead weight. After ten agonizing minutes, she snarled in frustration, dropping the comb and letting out a defeated sob. 

“Want some help?” her mothers soft voice came from the doorway of the bathroom. She no doubt could not wait to see how she was progressing up here alone and came to check on her. 

Julie braced her hands on the counter top, leaning over it, feeling exhausted and worn. When she turned to face her mother, she pierced her with a sad look as she said plainly “Yes please” 

Karen motioned for Julie to follow her. She handed her the comb and a towel as she followed her mother into the bedroom. Karen sat down on the mattress and patted the space in front of her. Julie sat down with her back to her mother and let her work out the tangles in her hair just like when she was a child. She felt the comb tug as it ran through her knotted hair and she winced. Soon the motions became smooth and curls started to form, bouncing back to life. 

“Do you want it dried or let it go natural?” Karen asked now that it was curled and tangle free. 

“Can you dry it please?” Julie asked meekly, knowing she didn’t have the strength to lift the hairdryer for that amount of time. 

“Of course,” Karen said, scooting Julie up and off the bed, back into the bathroom and setting the dryer up. The warm air blasted on, muffling the sounds of the house and space and letting Julie get lost in thoughts. She tried not to stare at her sad reflection in the mirror as her mother worked to dry her hair. The struggle to do simple things like this only added to the ache in her heart over what happened to her and how being stuck in a coma for so long affected every aspect of her life. The warm air from the dryer passed over the back of her neck and she shivered at the contact. It was soothing and she could not help but smile as she felt her mother move the warm air through her hair, hitting the back of her neck at random, passing across her shoulders. When she lifted her hair to tend to one last spot, she noticed the scar from one of the surgeries or from where they had stitched up a bleeding wound. Karen hoped Julie did not hear the small sob she let out in response to seeing that scar and recalling the pain and agony her baby girl endured. 

“All done,” Karen said after a few minutes, shutting the dryer off and unplugging it. 

“Thanks,” Julie mumbled, still slightly embarrassed at having to be cared for like this. 

“Are you ready to have dinner now?” Karen asked, anxious to get food in her system as it had been hours. 

“Maybe later?” Julie asked, “I still don’t feel hungry.”

Karen swallowed the lump of worry that got stuck in her throat at this declaration but nodded in agreement. 

“Are you ready for bed then?” Karen asked instead.

“I think so,” Julie said, rubbing her eyes, feeling sleeping after the warm shower and warm air from the dryer. 

Karen watched Julie turn down the bed sheets and comforter and crawl under the covers. She wriggled under them, getting comfortable and reaching for the light. Her fingers barely grazed it and she could not hit the switch without struggling. 

“Here,” Karen said coming to her side again, dimming the light but not turning it off completely yet. 

“Sweet dreams,” she said, hesitating before leaning in to give her a kiss on her forehead. 

“Will you tell Nicky and daddy goodnight for me?” Julie asked. 

“I will,” Karen promised “I’m sure Nick will be up to check on you soon anyways.”

Julie nodded, anxious to snuggle with him but knowing it was still too early for him to be in bed yet. The digital clock blinked six thirty in the evening, yet her exhaustion was overwhelming. 

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Karen reminded Julie as she lingered in the doorway before shutting it, the lights off, room thrown into darkness now. Just like at the hospital when she could not bear seeing her sweet angel struggle, she waited until she was in the hallway, out of earshot of anyone before letting her tears fall.


End file.
